


A Series of Unexpected Events

by Marvel_Managed



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Drunk Tony, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Angst, Nat and Clint are meddling shits, So much angst, Stony - Freeform, but so is Tony, meddling shits, steve is a creep, wingman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvel_Managed/pseuds/Marvel_Managed
Summary: Steve accidentally walks in on Tony getting changed. Awkwardness ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: So this is my first fic ever, I'm really surprised at how many people have read it already! It's a little longer than I originally anticipated, and really angsty. Like so, so, super fucking angsty. No smut though, I don't write that. A little bit of fluff and plently of awkwardness and feels. Also, Tony's an alcoholic so yeah. I hope you guys enjoy! Oh, and one more thing - I'm adding new chapters every few hours now so if you've already read this you should check once in a while if you want the whole thing. I'm planning at maybe 8/9 chapters. And remember, commenting always helps. I'll try to fix it if you guys find a problem. Just tell me what you think! This is getting long, so without further ado, my first fic:

It wasn’t the first time Tony had woke up in a place that wasn’t his bed. In fact, waking up in his own bed was a rare event these days. God, his back hurt. It was probably from hunching over a new project in the workshop all day, then falling asleep on top of said project. He stood up and leaned back, then immediately sat back down when there was a noticeable pop. “Oh, god, that was a crack.” He muttered to himself. How old was he even getting? Upwards of 35. And he still didn’t have a wife . . . Or husband. This was the kind of thing his mother would scold him about. He smiled at the memory, but it quickly disappeared when he really thought of his mother. He pushed it out of his mind. He didn’t want this to be one of those days. Tony stretched again, this time to no unexpected cracking. Luckily.  
“Jarvis, get me some clothes.” Tony said.  
“The Valentino suit, sir?” the AI responded, knowing one of Tony’s favorite suits.  
“Less formal.”  
“Yes, sir.”  
A fresh t-shirt and jeans arrived via a robotized hand. “Thanks” Tony said. Even though it wasn’t necessary, he treated Jarvis like his own person. In a sense, he was. Right as Tony was changing, he heard the door open. “Shit!” he yelled, diving behind the desk. “Oh my gosh!” a very familiar voice said. There was really only one person on the team who would say ‘gosh’. Steve.  
“It would be good if you could leave for now, Capsicle. Also, consider knocking!” Tony peeked out from behind the work desk.  
“Gosh, sorry Tony.” Steve said, shielding his eyes and walking out the door. The glass door. Fuck. That meant Steve might’ve seen him before he even walked in. Tony would normally be embarrassed, but this time he was fucking mortified. This wasn’t like, Nat or Bruce, this was Steve. Like, the guy he’s had a crush on since he was 13 Steve. Not that he’d ever tell him that. That would not go well.  
Tony tried to push thoughts of Steve and the terrible embarrassment he’d just endured out of his mind as he climbed the stairs to the Avengers tower. He made his way into the kitchen where Mr. Stars and Stripes was already cooking breakfast. Tony quickly grabbed his coffee and attempted to leave the area without interacting with Steve when capsicle brought up the incident. “Sorry about that. I thought you were still asleep so I was coming down to wake you.” So domestic and caring, as always. Tony’s stomach still dropped.  
“Oh, uh, it’s fine. No problem.” He replied, still not meeting Steve’s eyes. He could feel his face turning red as he walked away to the table. That was regretfully right next to the kitchen. Luckily, Nat was already there.  
“What was that all about?” She almost whispered to him.  
“Uh, Steve kinda walked into the workshop while I was changing.” Tony whispered back, blushing. He left it at that, trying to avoid conversation by sipping his coffee.  
“Why are you so embarrassed then? I’ve walked in on you before and you didn’t even flinch.” Nat asked. Tony suspected she knew his secret.  
“You know.” Tony muttered into his coffee.  
“Ohhhhh! Oh my god, Tony,” She laughed. “See, I knew something like this was gonna happen. Jesus.”  
“What’s all the commotion over there?” Steve called joyfully from the kitchen.  
“Nothing, Steve, just talking about the last mission.” Nat said effortlessly.  
“Oh, that was a doozy!” Steve replied. Who the fuck said ‘doozy’? Whatever, he was like, 90 years old. Tony wished they had more missions like that last one. It wasn’t dramatic or dangerous like most of them, just kind of pathetic and hilarious. There had been drug lords, they didn’t really even qualify as drug lords, just meth chefs. But the Avengers had still been called in because they were suspected to have chitauri weapons on hand. That was a myth. What they really had was paper mache things that slightly resembled spears that the aliens carried. How had the police even been fooled.  
But that wasn’t the best part. After securing the ‘drug lords’, Thor decided to investigate. He didn’t find any meth, but 600 lollipops shaped like yoda. Thor came out of the room with 3 in his mouth before any of the team members could tell him not to eat them because well, why the hell would meth chefs have 600 innocent lollipops? Then for Tony, it clicked. They put the meth in the fucking lollipops. Before he could tell any of the teammates he was already doubled over on the floor laughing his ass off.  
“What is amusing you, Man of Iron?” Thor had asked through the meth-pops.  
“Tho-Those are fucking meth lollipops, Thor.” Tony managed between laughs.  
“What is this midgardian item you call ‘meth’?” Thor questioned right before Nat smacked the pops out of his mouth and crushed them.  
“It’s a narcotic drug. That you just consumed.” Bruce explained, giggling. Even Steve was laughing. At first it wasn’t affecting Thor, but on the jet back to the Tower he started twitching.  
“Oh lord, it’s kicking in.” Tony said.  
“I wonder how long until he starts losing his teeth and talking like a redneck.” Clint added sarcastically.  
Thor was pacing the jet, still twitching, and talking about ‘midgardian items’ at a speed no one could understand what he was saying.  
“Thor, you might want to sit down.” Steve said. “We may be getting some turbulence.”  
“I am an Asgardian prince! I shall conquer this ‘turbulence’! No foe shall survive against my power!” Thor proclaimed, gesticulating with mjolnir. That was when he fell. No one got hurt, but the mission remained relevant for months.  
“That was actually my favorite mission like, ever.” Tony said, pulling himself out of his reminiscing.  
“Yeah.” Steve said subconsciously from the kitchen.  
“Tony, we need to talk.” Nat whispered to him. “Maybe somewhere not around Steve.”  
“Uh, yeah. Coming.” Tony said.  
“Where are you two going?” Steve asked.  
“Tony needs to show me some upgrades he made to my weapons. In the workshop.”  
“Alright, be back by the time breakfast’s ready.” Steve said. Bruce and Thor were still off on a mission somewhere in Germany and wouldn’t be back for a few weeks. Clint and Sam were still here, though.  
Natasha and Tony made their way to the workshop quickly. As soon as the door was closed, Nat turned around and just said ‘oooooooooooooh’.  
“What are you, a fucking middle schooler?” Tony said, rolling his eyes.  
“No, but me and Clint have been betting on this for a while now and I just won.” Nat said almost giddily. “In fact, I need Clint to come down here right now so he can pay up. And be in on this.” She continued, pulling out her phone. Tony almost tripped running over to take it away.  
“No! No, no, no, no, no. I am not having Clint of all people in on this secret. You weren’t even supposed to know! And what is this betting thing?” Tony said.  
“Alright, fine, I won’t tell him all about it. Just that I won the bet. And about that, me and him had been betting who would make the first move. I think this counts as Steve.”  
“Oh, come on, you don’t think I’m brave enough?” Tony said, crossing his arms. He was Tony Stark. Did that count for nothing these days?  
“I mean, based on how you can barely even talk to him after a little mishap like that, I wouldn’t count on it.” Natasha said, fiddling with some of Tony’s random projects.  
“What’s this?” She asked, holding up what looked like a really fancy flash drive.  
“Oh, nothing. Just a few project ideas.” Tony replied. Shit. At least she didn’t know what was on that innocent-looking flash drive. (Some really sneaky, sexy pictures of Steve)  
“Can I see them? I might actually need that weapons upgrade we told Steve about.” Nat asked, turning it around in her hands as if that might show her what lied inside.  
“Oh, uh- I have some way better ones on this one. That one’s old, like 6 months old. Haven’t touched that thing in months. Completely irrelevant. In fact, just forget about it. I should probably throw it out.” He said, then realizing he said it way too fast to be convincing.  
“Oooookay. Don’t really want to know what’s on that anymore . . . “ Nat said, dropping the flash drive like it had poisoned her. Tony really wasn’t good at subtlety. Need to work on that. And he should probably fix this awkward silence, too. Awkward silences were never good. Especially when it was Nat and there was a suspicion of him . . . yeah.  
“But back to Steve. You need to ask him out, and me and Clint need something to do. Maybe we could even get Sam to help us.” Nat said. It seemed to Tony that she was forming some kind of evil plan in her head. Some Lex Luthor shit here.  
“What exactly are you hinting at?” Tony asked “Because if you think you can set up me and Steve, well, good luck with that. Have you seen how awkward I am? Even if you could miraculously set up a date, I’d probably ruin it in the first 5 minutes.”  
“I can help with that. We’ll work on it. And that’s not even an ‘if’, I’m a great wingman. Or, wing-woman in my case,” Nat said. Her plan was formed and now she was going through with it. “Plus, if we get him to help, Sam can convince Steve on anything. But don’t be jealous.” She winked.  
“Should we get back up to breakfast? He said to be back soon.” Tony said, eager to end this conversation.  
“Alright, loverboy. Missing your soon-to-be-boyfriend?” Nat said, walking towards the stairs. Tony just rolled his eyes and followed behind her.


	2. Awkward Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is what happened from Steve's point of view, a little repetition, but there's more. It also includes the conversations that ensues between Steve/Clint/Natasha/Sam with Tony not there, but wait till the ending for suspense.

That morning, Steve woke up at the usual time, 6:00 on the dot, went for a run, worked out, showered, and went to wake the other team members by 8:00. He had a routine, and he liked it. He felt it brought order to his life. And God knows Steve wanted order. Ever since he came out of the ice, everything was turbulent and chaos. That was, until he came along. When he first met Tony Stark, they got off on the wrong foot. There was a fight and bad feelings for a while, that at least Steve regretted, but they had worked it out and you could call them best friends now. Though Steve wanted to be a little bit more than friends. But he doubted Tony did, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship, so he let it be.   
So that morning started like every other morning. Nat was already awake, so he moved on to Clint and Sam. Clint, for some reason, was in the vents. That guy was weird. Nat said he was ‘nesting’. Maybe it was a big thing to go with his superhero name? Steve had no idea. Sam was already awake and stretching before a run. Steve offered to go with him, but Sam declined, saying all that would come of it was the use of an already overused joke. Though that was somewhat true, Steve wouldn’t say ‘On your left!’ was that old yet.  
Then he went to wake Tony. First he went to his bedroom. Though it was rare, he might be there. When he wasn’t there, Steve knew exactly where to look. The workshop. Sometimes if Tony wasn’t awake yet, Steve would stand there for a few minutes, admiring the brunette before he woke him. That didn’t count as creepy, did it? This morning, he got to the bottom of the stairs and heard rustling. He was awake, so no ‘secret admiring’ today. Then he got to the glass door and faltered. All he could see was Tony. No pants, no shirt, almost transparent boxers Tony. God. Steve swallowed hard and walked in, acting like he hadn’t seen Tony yet. He didn’t want to be caught staring. That would be an awkward conversation to have, one that might result in Tony avoiding him for weeks. Steve chose to sacrifice the luscious staring session for safeness. He could already feel his dick pressing against his pants, though. That’s what Tony did to him.  
“Oh my gosh!” Steve yelled, shielding his eyes and feigning surprise. He heard Tony yell ‘Shit’ and dive behind a desk. Tony said something he couldn’t really understand. His mind was still on that beautiful view.  
“Gosh, sorry Tony!” He said before walking out the door. His boner was somewhat depleted now, thankfully. Facing Nat with that thing would not be pleasant. Steve stole one more glance before going up the stairs. Tony was still behind the desk. When he got to the kitchen to start cooking, Nat was already waiting there for him with her arms crossed.   
“Why do you look so angry, Tasha?” Steve asked innocently.  
“Why do you look so damn suspicious?” She asked intimidatingly. That woman could be scary as fuck.  
“It’s really nothing. I just accidentally walked in on Tony changing while going down to wake him.” He replied, busying himself with arranging pans and utensils on the counter.  
“Is it really just ‘nothing’, Steve?” Tasha pressed, sidling up beside him.   
“Yup,” He said, faking a reassuring smile and looking her in the eye. “Just a simple accident.” At that, he walked away to the fridge to get eggs out.  
“Whatever you say.” Nat sighed and rolled her eyes, walking to the dining table on the other side of the counter. She already had her coffee waiting for her.  
At that moment, the person of interest, Tony Stark himself, walked up the stairs looking very mortified. He stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing coffee as quickly as he could. Steve tried to apologise, but the genius wouldn’t look him in the eyes. He actually felt pretty guilty about the whole thing. It was kinda his fault for creeping on Tony. But in all seriousness, it was worth it, Steve thought with a devilish smile. He could hear Tony and the assassin muttering at the table. It was probably about him.  
“Ohhhh! Oh, my God, Tony!” Nat’s voice was louder than usual, and she was laughing. Steve could guess at what the topic of conversation was. Still, he said “What’s all the commotion over there?”  
“N-nothing, just talking about the last mission!” Tony replied shakily, still red in the face. That didn’t really explain why Nathad called Tony’s name, but Steve accepted their weak excuse. Lost in thought, he didn’t really know what Tony said to him, but he just replied ‘yeah’. His head jerked to attention when he heard their chairs pushed backwards. When asked when they were going, Nat replied she was getting ‘upgrades to the weapons’. Yeah, right. Tony had just upgraded the widow bite yesterday! Steve told them to be back by the time the food’s ready, pouring the raw eggs into the frying pan.  
“Watcha up to, soldier boy?” Clint’s voice startled him, causing him to jump and almost drop the eggs.   
“Jesus, Clint, you scared me.” Steve replied “Where’d you even come from, anyways?”  
“Vents.” Clint said like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.  
“ . . . Alright.” Steve said “Want any eggs?”  
“Nah, I’m more of a fruity pebbles guy.” The assassin replied, pulling the sugary cereal out of the cabinet. “And I saw your and Tony’s little episode there. That was fucking hilarious.”  
“Fuck you. And which part? It seemed like a series.” Steve replied, a blush creeping up his neck.  
“All of it. I was in the vents over the stairs, you creep.” Clint said around a mouthful of fruity pebbles. “And I climbed back up here when you left. Tasha can be intimidating, trust me, I know.”  
“ . . . Yeah.” Steve said, staring at the eggs and trying to hide his embarrasment. Clint really had seen all of it, including the part where he stared at Tony for minutes on end. And probably the part with the . . . boner. Fuck. A noise from Clint’s phone startled Steve out of his stupor.   
“Fuck. Lost the bet.” Clint said, putting his phone down on the table.  
“What bet?” Steve asked, acting like he wasn’t interested.  
“Well, Nat bet that you would make the first move, I bet Tony. And, by the way, do you think you staring at him counts as a ‘move’? Because I’m kind of doubtful. And if I lose, I’m gonna be out 20 bucks.”  
“Wait, wait, wait, what?” Steve asked, turning around. “You guys bet on who would make the first move?”  
“Uhmmmmm, yeah. I honestly thought it would be him, cause you know, the whole ‘playboy, genius, philanthropist’ thing. And you’re like, 90 years old. I’m betting the 40’s didn’t give you a whole lot of experience.”   
“Aw, come on, you didn’t believe in me?” Steve replied, turning the flame off to avoid burning the eggs. “I had my fair share of practice way back when.”  
“Though from what I’ve heard, it was mostly Bucky setting you up.” Clint said, shoving another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “And again, do you think creeping counts as a first move?”   
“To be fair, yes, but that’s because he just had better social skills. And that was not creeping.” Steve said, his blush returning. At a raised eyebrow from the archer, “Okay, call it what you want, but no, that was not a ‘first move’.”  
“Hell yeah! Texting Natasha right now.” Barton said, fist pumping and grabbing his phone to text the other assassin.  
At least not all the team was here to hear about the little episode. Bucky, Thor, and Bruce were off on a mission, only Sam was left. They were supposed to be back in about 5 days. By that time this had to cool down. Hopefully. Wait, didn’t Nat say they were doing weapons upgrade? Why was she texting Clint about the little predicament? Okay, Steve needed to hear what they were talking about. Would asking Clint to spy on them be creepy? Probably. Luckily, he didn’t have that problem because the spy was already on top of the couch unscrewing the vent.  
“Okay, where did you even get a screwdriver?” Steve asked, walking over to the archer.  
“I just carry one. Usually comes in handy.” Barton replied, still unscrewing the 3rd screw.  
“And why are you going in the vents anyways? They’re probably coming back pretty soon.” Steve said, regretting him telling them to be back soon. Hopefully they disregard it.  
“I’ll get what I can.” Clint said, climbing up into the vents. “Also, I really need to ask Tony to get clip-on vent covers.”  
“Alright, Clint. Tell me whatever you hear.” Steve said, walking back to the eggs.   
Damn, what were Tony and Nat talking about? Hopefully they didn’t think he was creepy. It didn’t seem like that, though, from what he could hear of their conversation at the table. The longer he thought about it, the more dirty his thoughts became. Of workshop tables and what activities they can help aside from building robots. And what Tony might be hiding on that mysterious flash drive Steve had seen floating around his workshop, but whenever he asked about it, Tony said it was old and nothing to worry about. Suddenly, Sam walked in and shook him out of his (not entirely clean) thoughts.   
“Hey, Cap” He said cheerfully, plopping down on one of the bar stools next to the counter. “How’s it going?”  
“Uhm, so-so.” Steve responded. Was he gonna have to explain the whole thing again? Goddamnit.  
“What’s that mean?” Sam asked, getting coffee.  
“It means he was creeping on Tony while he was changing” Came Natasha’s stern voice from the stairwell. She sounded scary, but there was a hint of laughter in her voice, and she was smirking like she knew something the others didn’t. Which she probably did.   
“Oh, shit, Nat, you make it sound so bad!” Steve exclaimed.  
“Hold up, hold up, what?! Steve, were you stalking Tony? And by the way, where the fuck is Stark?” Sam yelled  
“He’s downstairs ‘getting something’.” Natasha made finger quotes. ‘What’s that mean?’ wondered Steve.  
“Okay, it’s not what it sounds like, Sam. I was trying to wake him up and I accidentally walked in on him changing. Simple as that. No need to make a big deal about it.” He sounded flustered as he put the eggs (that he had to reheat) onto plates.  
“Steve, why did you let Clint go in the vents again?” Nat asked, grabbing one of the steaming plates. “He’s really not as stealthy as he thinks, and Tony got scared that you sent him so he ran back into the workshop.”  
“Oh my gosh, it’s just Clint. He does it literally all the time, Tasha. No big deal.” Steve replied. He was starting to get kind of exasperated. They had blown this into gigantic proportions, making a mountain out of an ant hill. Steve’s not sure if he got that saying right.  
“Alright, alright, enough.” Sam said, breaking apart the squabble. “Ya’ll need to calm the fuck down.”  
The two stopped. “You sound like Fury.” Nat almost giggled  
“Shit.” Sam said, laughing.  
“I’ll be right back, gonna go yell at Clint to get down from the vents.” Nat said, walking over to the nearest opening.  
“Knock yourself out.” Steve said absentmindedly. “He’ll probably just stay up there longer in fear of being murdered by you.”  
The three proceeded in having an almost-normal breakfast until Clint came down and Natasha had to smack him on the back of the head. “Two points to Natasha!” Sam yelled and put his fist up without looking back at them. Nat just smirked.  
“So, is my feathered friend in the bet yet?” The archer asked, rubbing the back of his head.   
“Not yet, birdbrain, wanna tell him about it?” Tasha replied.  
“Wait, there’s a bet?” Sam asked inquisitively. “Lemme guess, it’s on whether Capsicle’s a virgin or not.” Natasha almost fell into Clint laughing.  
“What the hell?” Steve asked, not paying attention to their conversation until this. “You guys are fucked up.”  
“Ooooooh, America’s golden boy said a curse word!” Clint said mockingly. “Nobody tell Fury!”  
“Alright, alright, that’s not the actual bet but we should make another bet on that.” Nat said.   
“You know, or we could not.” Steve interjected from his spot leaning against the table.  
“The real bet is who will make the first move between Steve or Tony. I bet Steve, Clint bet Tony. We don’t really know if Steve creeping on him counts, Clint says no, I say yes, Steve’s vote doesn’t count.” Nat eyed Steve, shutting down his protests. “What do you think, and also, which side are you on.”  
“I think I’m gonna go with my man Steve, just because he’s my friend and I’m gonna be his wingman. Plus, I am not losing a bet to the guy that crawls in vents for fun.” Sam said, gesturing to Clint who was again eyeing the vents. Steve face-palmed.  
“I literally told you guys, I do not have feelings for Tony. He’s just a friend, that’s all. Never gonna be more, so you can call off the bet right now.”  
“Th-that’s nice to know.” They all turned around to see Tony standing in the doorway. Shit.


	3. A Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes to apologize. Not all goes as planned. An argument hurts, both sides are hurt though some more than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the shorter chapters, but also a significant one. Thank you so much for so many hits/kudos! And that one person who bookmarked, I see you. Tysm I had no idea how fast this stuff happened! :D

How could Steve say that? I mean, he had no idea how Tony felt, but it still hurt him. A lot. “Th-that’s good to know.” He said, trying to build his facade back up after Steve tearing it down with one comment. It probably wasn’t on purpose. Maybe it had just been out of embarrassment? No, that was just raising false hope. Very, very false.   
Tony just tried to be normal, muttering something about having to get back to work, and grabbed a cup of coffee, walking back down the stairs as fast as humanely possible without running. He slammed the door shut.  
“Lock it, Jarvis. Don’t let anybody in.” He said shakily, the tears already coming. The genius literally collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands on the desk. The tears were flowing heavily. All his hopes, crushed. A crush for more than 20 years. But no more than a crush. Just friends. He could hear hurried steps on the stairs. Shit. ‘If it’s Steve, which it probably is, be cold. You got this’ he thought to himself. ‘Don’t let him know how you feel. Two can play at whatever twisted game he’s playing’. Tony wiped messily at his tears and stooped over whatever was on his desk.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Tony gave a very feeble, fake smile, grabbed a cup of coffee, and ran back downstairs. Nat gave Steve a deathglare. “I’ll need to speak to you later, Steve. And you fucking know that’s not true”  
What? Did Tony have feelings for him? It didn’t seem likely, at all. Steve didn’t want to screw their freindship up, but he really didn’t want to upset Tony. Which, apparently, he had done.   
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Nat said, still glaring daggers at him. “Go. Run.”  
“Wait! Tony!” Steve shouted, running down after him. The workshop door was already locked, and Steve started knocking on it.  
“Tony, I’m sorry. Can we talk?” Steve said through the glass to the engineer, who was pretending to be engrossed in a project.  
“A-alright Steve.” He said, turning around in his chair. “Jarvis, unlock the door.” He faked a smile when Steve walked in. He could see bloodshot eyes and remnants of tears down Tony’s face.  
“What do you want to talk about? I made an upgrade to your sheild, want to see it?” Tony faked, turning back to his work.  
“Tony, you know that’s not what I meant.” Steve said, shuffling his feet. “I-I’ve no idea how to say this . . . And I don’t know if you feel the same way.”  
“Oh, you can be sure I do.” Tony said, a very pained grin on his face. “You said you had no feelings for me. I feel exactly the same. Just friends. I mean, it’s impossible we could be anything more, you know? Completely out of the question.”  
“I-uh . . . “ Steve felt like he’d taken a blow to the ribs. “That’s not--”  
“Yeah, we should really make them call the bet off. Natasha told me about it, I already told her it was a terrible idea.”  
There was a thump from the ceiling. Right next to the vent opening.   
“Clint, you motherfucker, can we have some goddamn privacy! Get the hell out of the vents!” Steve literally exploded. The thumping got quieter and quieter, getting farther away. Natasha will take care of him.   
“I didn’t know the most perfect guy in America even knew those words.” Tony snorted coldly.  
“I-Tony, if that’s really how you feel I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I just-”  
“Yeah. That’s exactly how I feel. So if you have anything else to tell me, get it over with, because as you can see I’m very busy with this thing Fury wants me to get done soon.” Tony took a deep breath, exaggerating his smile.  
“O-okay.” Steve was shattered. Now it was his voice that was shaking. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes. As he walked to the door, he heard a choked sob from Tony. Once he stepped into the stairwell, Steve faltered. He turned around and whispered ‘I love you’.  
“What was that?” Tony’s head jerked up to the voice.  
“N-nothing. It was nothing.” Steve said, sprinting back up the stairs.   
All of his team members were waiting at the top of the steps. He gave them a half-hearted smile and walked past, towards his room. He needed to be alone. “How’d it go?” Sam asked him. “Don’t want to talk about it.” Steve muttered, pushing past him.


	4. Initiate Operation Stony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam, Natasha, and Clint are meddling fucks. But Natasha is good at comforting, and Clint is questionable. Also, emotional af, drunk af Tony which I'm not that good at writing and SadSteve.

At times Steve was sad, he would draw. He’d draw anything he could, anything that was there, or that he was thinking about. Right now he was thinking about Tony. He drew them together, on a bench at the park, laughing at some innuendo or joke Tony had made. The others were there too, when it really happened, though Steve didn’t add them to the drawing. He drew for hours on end, this picture and others, all of them containing one similar thing: Tony.  
Around 4 pm a faint knock came a the door, so quiet Steve almost didn’t hear it. It came again, louder this time.  
“Who is it?” Steve asked, quickly shutting his sketchbook.  
“It’s Nat.” Came the reply. Steve walked over to unlock the door and let her in.  
“Hi, Tasha.” He said, looking at the ground. “You can come in.” There was a silence that lasted for a few minutes, though to Steve it could easily have been hours. Nat just sat there beside him on the bed, her arm around him and her head resting on his muscular shoulder. Steve let the tears fall silently, and Nat stayed quiet, understanding that sometimes a silent friend can be the best remedy.  
“Do you need to talk about anything?” She asked eventually, not wanting to press him for answers.   
“Well, I guess I need to, after the episode this morning.” He chuckled wetly. “I-I guess I just got my hopes up.”  
“It’s probably time I tell you what Tony and I were talking about this morning, Steve.” She said, turning herself on the bed to look him in the eye. “He loves you.”  
Steve snorted. “That’s not what he said. He said it was ‘completely out of the question.”  
“Oh, come on, do you really believe that? He was hurt. He wanted to hurt someone. Needed to. You were the target.” She put her hand on his arm, silently comforting him.  
“I-I tr-tr-tried to apologize, Nat. I really did. He-he-he hates me.” Steve’s voice caught in his throat. The sobs started coming.  
“Oh, Steve.” Tasha reached out and hugged him. Steve was strong, but whatever Tony had said had pierced that rough exterior. Natasha hated being the middle man. Why couldn’t these two grown men just talk to each other instead of gossiping about crushes like middle schoolers?  
“You need to talk to him. He needs to talk to you. No more closed doors. Talk about your feelings.” Nat said, pulling back and patting him on the back.  
“I-I’ll try.” He responded, wiping at the tears.  
Nat walked away to deal with the engineer. “Sam should be coming soon. Good luck.” She said before leaving.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
“Okay, what did you say?” The assassin said immediately after closing the genius’ bedroom door. He had finally migrated from the workshop, though it wasn’t for a good reason. Apparently his alcohol supply in the lab had ran low, so Tony lurked back to his rarely used bedroom to dull his feelings.  
“Ohhhhh, hiiiiii, Nat.” Tony slurred drunkenly, waving with a whiskey bottle in hand.  
“Nope.” She said simply, plucking the bottle from his calloused hand. “No more drinking. I thought you were done with this.”  
“Awwwww, come on, Naaaaaaaaat. Have some fuuuun.” Tony said, reaching out for the half-empty bottle.  
“Damn, how many of these have you had?” She asked, peering into the trash can after throwing away the bottle.   
“Most o’ those are ooooold. Like Steveeee. Ha.” The drunk scientist fell back on his plush bed. The thing was probably more expensive than Nat’s old apartment.   
“And about Steve, what the hell happened this morning?” Tasha said, trying not to sound stern. The guy was obviously emotional. Or, was, before he got drunk of his ass on whatever was in the cabinets that Pepper hadn’t emptied out already.  
“I,I,I,Iiiiiii talked to him.” Tony was pointing up at the ceiling. “That spot looks like a sheild. Like Steve’s shield. Look, it got a staaaar too.” Tony was apparently going to be no help.  
“Jarvis, how long has Tony been intoxicated?” Natasha asked the AI. It still felt kind of weird to her to be talking to a robot, but it worked.  
“Sir took the first bottle of alcohol at approximately 12:56 AM. Would you like me to play the video clip?” The AI responded in what sounded like a disappointed tone.   
“Wait, you have a video? You take videos?” Nat said, seeing an opportunity to see what really happened in the workshop.  
“Yes, Natasha. Would you like me to play the video clip from 12:56?”  
“No, that’s fine Jarvis. I don’t want to spy on Tony. But save the video from . . . “ She glanced down at her watch. Steve must’ve gone down into the workshop at around 10:30. “Save the video from 10:30. I need you to play it in the living room in a few minutes.”  
At that, Tony kicked his legs into the air. “Ooh, movie, I wanna see. I bet Steve’ll be there. Steve looooves movie night. Usually picks shit movies though.” He slurred.  
“Alright, Tony, time for bed. You’re gonna have to sleep this one off.” She felt strange tucking the older man into bed, but you gotta do what you gotta do. And at the moment, this emotionally drained super hero needed her help.  
“Nooooo, I wanna go to movie night with Steeeevee.” He pushed at the blankets.  
“Well, Steve wants you to go to sleep right now. So, go to sleep. Night, Tony.” Nat replied in an almost motherly tone as she turned off the lights and strode down to the shared living room.   
“Jarvis, call Clint and Sam down here. Tell them I need to show them something.” She told the AI. The archer and soldier came down rather quickly.   
“What did you find out from the two?” Sam asked, looking concerned.   
“Yeah, and what did you want to show us?” Clint added.  
“Well, Tony’s drunk beyond comprehension, and Steve’s hurt. Really hurt. I’ve never seen him this sad aside from Peggy . . . But I found something out.” Nat paused for suspense. “Jarvis apparently records everything. All the time. And so we can look at what really happened.”  
“You didn’t know that already? I figured out a long time ago.” Clint said, invoking a rude gesture from Natasha  
“Don’t you think that’s an invasion of privacy?” Sam added thoughtfully.  
“But we need to see what really happened. Neither of them is gonna tell us anytime soon. Jarvis, play the clip of Tony’s workshop from 10:30 AM.”  
“Yes, Natasha. Playing on airplay Living Room.” The AI responded, for once devoid of emotion. As the video flickered on screen, the avengers watched it in varying degrees of astonishment and sympathy for both team members. As it ended, Sam whistled lowly. “Damn. That man knows how to hit where it hurts. No fucking wonder Steve’s hurt.”  
“To be fair, Steve kind of started it. And though it was unintentional, Tony took it wrong.” Clint said. This was one of the first times Nat had seen him be that serious about something.  
“Okay. We are forming a mission.” Nat said, gesturing for the two to sit down at the dining room table. “We need to set them up. Or at least get them to talk. I am not spending 4 days in this tower with 2 depressed super heroes who are incapable of communicating.”  
“I agree. I can talk to Steve, he should be easier to convince.” Sam replied. “You guys need to tackle Tony. Your main objective should be to keep him sober. Drinks will only make it worse.”  
“Yeah. After this I’m going to go clear out his alcohol.” Clint said off-handedly.  
“Tomorrow, the plan is to emotionally prepare them both. Get them on their feet. This will be hard for Tony. Keep them mostly seperate during the day. They need to meet, though. The next day we can plan for them to actually talk. Get it over with.” Natasha said, forming the plan in her head. “Alright, initiate operation . . . Uhm . . .”  
“Initiate Operation Stony.” Sam said, placing his hand in the middle of the table for a cheer. The other two complied. “Whoo!” Clint shouted. “Team meddling fucks activate!” Nat snorted.


	5. The Day After - An unsettling discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve temporarily gets his shit together, then for some reason decides to go into Tony's workshop. Jarvis' video cams are more 'helpful'.

The next day, Steve didn’t bother getting up before 7, or going for a run, or making breakfast, or going out of his room before Sam came in and prompted him to get outside.  
“Hey, Steve, wanna go for that run you wanted yesterday?” He asked from the doorway. Steve grunted and rolled over in his bed onto his tear-stained pillow.  
“Aw, come on. Just laying there all day isn’t gonna fix anything.” Sam continued, moving to sit on the bed. “The least you can do is show him he has no affect on you.”  
“But that’s not true.” Steve sat up against the wall, showing his bloodshot eyes and pale face.  
“Jesus, Steve. I don’t want to sound harsh, but wallowing in your feelings isn’t gonna do anything. You gotta talk to him. You gotta make yourself useful, do something, get your mind off it. So come on, get dressed and we can go for a run.” Sam said encouragingly, earning a small smile from Steve. “I’ll even let you yell ‘On your left’ at me when you pass me.” The tiny smile turned into a determined grin. Sam couldn’t help but smile back.  
“Alright, Sam. I guess I could go for a run. Gimme a minute to get ready.” Steve finally complied.   
They got a cab to Central Park and did one lap. It was a big park, even for a super soldier. At the end, Steve was standing with his hands on his knees, heaving.  
“Darn. That was longer than I expected.” He panted.  
“Well,” Sam breathed between huge, gulping breaths. “It was easier for you. In case you forgot, I don’t have a serum.” He grinned, sitting back against a huge oak.  
The pair made their way slowly back to the tower. Public Transit was new to Steve, he hadn’t used it that often, so Sam had to show him how to avoid crazies and use the machines. When they returned, Steve showed unexpected bravery and enthusiasm.  
“You know what, Sam?” He said, turning to the smaller man. “I think I’ve taken your words to heart. I’m gonna go talk to Tony.” Sam literally tripped trying to hold him back from the workshop.  
“I-um, you might want to wait till tomorrow. Nat said he was having kind of a hard time yesterday.”  
“Come on, it can’t be that bad. It’s better to fix things right away instead of let them get worse.” Sam was helpless trying to keep him from the workshop.  
Steve walked down the steps with all-too-painful memories, turning towards the glass door. Tony had turned it opaque for the moment. The door was unusually ajar by a few inches. Steve cautiously called Tony’s name. No answer came, so he pushed open the door. The scene that faced him was too much for Steve. There were whiskey and vodka bottles littering the floor, on the tables, and there was a blood spatter on Tony’s desk. There was also a notebook. Steve walked over to it, hopefully leafing through the pages. On one of them, the only work was a very warbly Steve. It looked like Tony had tried to write a letter, but was too intoxicated and broken to do so.  
Steve ran back upstairs to his room and locked the door. Sam tried to knock, but he just called a pathetic ‘Go away’.   
“Jarvis, play the video of Tony’s workshop starting at 11:00.” The soldier’s voice came out shakily.  
“On Steve’s TV, Captain Rogers?” The AI’s weary voice came.  
“Yeah.” The video started playing. The second Steve left the room, he screamed. The audio wasn’t working, but Steve could just imagine what it sounded like. He watched the engineer crumple to the ground, sobbing. He crawled over to the alcohol cabinet, pulling out all the bottles he could carry. Oh, no. the soldier thought. He watched in horror as the genius brought all the bottles to the desk, tripping in doing so and making a cut on his arm. That explained the blood.   
Tony started chugging bottle after bottle, nearly falling off the swivel chair. It hurt Steve to watch the one he still loved do this to himself. Tony pulled a pen off his desk, and the notebook Steve had seen before. “Zoom in on that notebook, Jarvis.” Steve said. He saw Tony scrawl in shaky handwriting I fucked up. He tore the page out of the notebook, crumpling it and tossing it to the trash. Steve turned off the TV then. He didn’t want to see the rest of what happened, and he could guess at what that was. Tony drowning his feelings, attempting again and again to write some note. Steve felt responsible for this, but also angry at Tony. Angry that he couldn’t deal with one comment without getting drunk. Angry at what he had said, and angry that he couldn’t apologize to his face. Angry that he made Steve feel guilty, even when Tony had said much more hurtful things.  
Steve returned to his drawings, this time drawing anything without people. Sunsets led to New York in the 40’s, which eventually led to the training camp. These memories were too painful for Steve, so he simply laid down silently until sleep stole his feelings away.


	6. A letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony realizes what he's done and decides it's time to apologise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a little while to write, I'm just not that good at keeping it going for so long. Also half of it was written at 3 in the morning so yeah . . . Tell me what you think and if you have any advice! :)

Tony woke up with a devastating headache and the overwhelming feeling of nausea.  
“Fuck. What the hell happened last night?” He said to himself, sitting up with his hand on his head as if that might stifle the pain. It had been a while since his partying days, and he couldn’t remember anything. Oh, wait. It all ae back to him in a paralyzing wave.  
“Shit. Shitshitshitshit.” Tony exclaimed, attempting to stand up. He only knew one thing. He had fucked up. That was common over the years, but it had gotten less now. Until Steve. Until yesterday.  
Tony needed to apologize. He knew that much. He also knew he had to get himself together, that this, losing control, was not good. It would worry his team mates, and he knew he didn’t deserve pity. He brought this on himself. Partly. He still hated Steve for saying that, no matter how much he had shot back.  
“Jarvis, get Dum-E to start my hangover smoothie in the workshop.”  
“Sir, Dum-E says there are not sufficient ingredients in your workshop.”  
“Guess I’ll make it myself then.” Tony said as he staggered down to the shared kitchen, hoping beyond hope that Steve wasn’t already there. He checked his watch, which he hadn’t bothered to take off last night. Which, by the way, how had he even been tucked into bed? In a drunken daze, he never remembered waking up the next day like that. Usually just sprawled over whatever was closest (Which sometimes was a woman). Oh, well. It was probably Nat or someone.   
It was only 9:00 in the morning, which was early for Tony. Suddenly there were footsteps from the stairwell. He could hear Sam and Steve’s voices, though he couldn’t decipher what they were saying. Something about a run. Tony instinctively ducked behind the kitchen island, worried for some reason that they would see him, even though the corner of the doorway prevented that from happening. The voices faded away, and Tony deemed it safe to emerge from his hiding spot.  
“Real smooth, Stark.”  
“Fuck!” Tony shot up, backing against the counter in the blink of an eye. “Goddamnit, Natasha, why do you always do this?”   
“Sorry,” The spy said, snickering. “Guess it’s just instincts. But that was a top-notch performance.”  
“Well, excuse me for not wanting to see or be seen by Steve. But you know what happened yesterday. You know what he said.” Tony said, suddenly aware of his throat closing up and tears forming in his eyes.  
“I also know what you said. And, would you believe it,” Natasha said in a half sarcastic tone. “Would you believe it, that punctured his ‘invincible’ exterior. You hurt him, Tony. Hard.”  
“I-I-I’m sorry.” Tony said, his voice faltering.  
“Fuck are you saying it to me for? It’s him you need to apologize to.”  
She was right. Even Tony knew that. Steve had hurt him, sure, but it had been unintentional. But surely Steve could see that Tony hadn’t really meant what he said. It was in the tone, right? Tony knew he wasn’t that good at hiding his feelings when he was really distressed. That was definitely one of those times. Of course, Steve probably didn’t notice the tone of voice in the words that tore his heart apart. Fuck.  
“You also need to move so I can get my coffee.” Nat said, looking behind Tony at the counter he was blocking.  
“Oh. Sorry.” Tony wasn’t really registering what Nat was saying, except for that he needed to move. He was still lost in thought. He didn’t know what he could do, or how he could do it, to make Steve forgive him. He had fucked up, big time, even for him. It was way easier to run away from his problems, but this one wouldn’t leave. This was one he had created for himself. Steve was gonna tell him something, wasn’t he? Before Tony cut him off and murdered him. He was also apologising . . . but why would he be apologising if it was true? If what he had said, that they could never be anything more, was true, why would he have to say sorry? Fuck. Stop hoping, Tony. It’s a worthless cause. He thought to himself, pushing the thoughts out of his mind.   
“Hey, uh, Tony, do you want to talk about it?” Nat said tentatively, not wanting to push any of the billionaire's buttons.   
“Talk about what? I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Tony said, putting his facade back on and faking another pitiful smile.  
“Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb, Tony, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t need to keep your feelings bottled up inside, it’s okay to let them out.” She continued, trying to comfort him.   
“Well, no, I don’t particularly want to talk about it but it seems like I might have to for you to ever get off me back.” He snapped. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that.  
“Guess I’ll leave you be then.” Nat said, devoid of emotion. She calmly walked away, leaving Tony with his sorrows.  
“Wait, Nat. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out like that . . .” He called out after her. If she did hear, she didn’t acknowledge it. Fuck. It was only after she left Tony realized that he actually did in fact want to talk about it. There was only one available person in the tower left, though, and that was Clint. No way Tony was walking into that one. So he reverted to the old fashioned way: writing. He only had one journal, and it was in his room. He knew once he was there he was going to be too lazy to go back to the workshop, where he would much rather spend his time, even if it was kind of trashed at the moment and he’d still only be writing about Steve.  
So Tony made his way up to his floor, pulled out the (admittedly dusty) notebook and began to write. He decided to try and craft a letter, since he probably would never be able to face Steve in person.  
Dear Steve,  
I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that, it was never my intention to upset you. Or, at the time, it kind of was. I was distressed, I was being childish and trying to hit back. I was stupid, I fucked up. A lot. I sincerely hope you will accept my apology. And just know, I didn’t really mean any of the things I said. And, whatever you were going to tell me before I started being a dick, I want to know. I understand if you don’t want to tell me anymore, that’s fine. Again, I’m so sorry for hurting you.  
Tony Stark  
That was what he came up with after numerous attempts and a trashcan full of crumpled paper. Now he just had to give it to Steve. He decided to give it to him himself instead of having Jarvis transport it to his room. Tony’s hands were trembling as he walked out of the elevator and down the hallway to Steve’s bedroom. He noticed how much he was shaking when he reached his hand up to knock on the closed door.  
Okay, Tony. You can do this. Deep breaths. Come on, it’s just Steve. He thought to himself, one side of his brain trying to calm him. The other . . . Oh yeah, just Steve. Just the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were what, a fucking preteen? So go ahead, fuck it all up. Again.  
Shut up. The other side of his brain stepped in, again prompting him to raise a shaky hand to the door. He knocked. Nothing happened. Again. No response.  
“Steve?” Tony tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Steve, are you in there?” Still no noise came, so Tony slide the note under the door. Hopefully Steve would get it. He turned around and walked away, wanting to be anywhere but Steve’s floor at the moment.


	7. Actions are Stronger than Words.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve get's Tony's note and decides to make an apology of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this last chapter is so short, I just wanted to finish this work up because I felt like it got too long. Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Steve heard the knocks at the door. It didn’t sound like Sam, or Nat, or Clint. That only left one option. He tried to be silent, not wanting to talk to the genius at the moment. This is ridiculous He thought to himself, noticing his current predicament. He was hiding under the covers, literally holding his breath in fear of Tony hearing him. It’s not like he’s some kind of monster. Why am I hiding? That’s when his voice came. Smooth as honey, it’s the voice that Steve loved to hear beyond comprehension. But it sounded worried, even wounded. That’s when Steve remembered why he didn’t want to talk with Tony. He didn’t want to get hurt again, and above all, he didn’t want to risk hurting Tony more than he already did. And he was still angry at the genius, so he didn’t want to explode.  
He heard Tony’s footsteps get quieter and quieter as he left. Steve deemed it safe to emerge, gulping in huge breaths of air. That’s when he saw it. Just as small piece of paper, folded in half. He crept over and picked it up. After he read the contents his mind was a range of emotions. Happy, overjoyed even, that Tony was sorry. That he wanted to take the effort to fix this. Guilty, that he hadn’t apologised first. Guilty that he made Tony need to hit him back. And still a tiny bit of anger that Tony had said those things, hadn’t apologised sooner, and that he had wanted to hurt Steve back at the time. But mostly, what he felt was relief that they were going to fix this. And . . . And that Tony might feel the same way as him. He said he didn’t mean any of the things he said, and all he said was they would never be anything more . . . so he might want them to be. Steve knew what he had to do. He found himself in front of Tony’s door an hour later, a rose in his hand along with a heartfelt apology planned out in his mind.  
“Tony?” He asked tentatively, pushing aside the slightly open door.  
“Yeah, Steve?” The engineer shot up from his desk chair the moment he heard Steve walk in.  
“I-I came here to apologise. For what I said. I didn’t mean it. That was what I was going to tell you in the workshop. I didn’t mean a single word of it. And, your letter, thank you for that. Thank you so much.” Steve’s words flowed out of his mouth before his throat started closing up again.  
“I don’t know what to say . . .” Tony was stunned and flustered. He saw the rose in Steve’s hand. “Is-is that for me?”  
“Who else?” Steve said smoothly, holding it out to the genius.  
“Thank you.” Tony said softly, turning it around in his hands. “And Steve- I love you.”  
Steve didn’t say anything else, just rushed forward into Tony’s arms and pressed their heads together in a kiss. The first kiss he’s had that’s felt like this, felt so . . . right. At that moment, he knew this was the man he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He pulled back, whispering softly into Tony’s ear. “I love you too, Tony.”  
The End.


End file.
